Black Jack by Max Brand (interesting novels to read TXT) 📖

There was no exuberant joy to meet this suggestion. McGuire had, as a

matter of fact, made his territory practically crime-proof for so long

that men had lost interest in planning adventures within the sphere of

his authority. It seemed to the four men of Pollard’s gang a peculiar

folly to cast a challenge in the teeth of the formidable sheriff himself.

Even Pollard was shaken and looked to Denver. But that worthy, who had

returned from the door where he was stationed during the presence of the

sheriff, remained in his place smiling down at his hands. He, for one,

seemed oddly pleased.

In the meantime Sandy was setting forth his second and particularly

interesting news item.

“You-all know Lewison?” he asked.

“The sour old grouch,” affirmed Phil Marvin. “Sure, we know him.”

“I know him, too,” said Sandy. “I worked for the tenderfoot that he

skinned out of the ranch. And then I worked for Lewison. If they’s

anything good about Lewison, you’d need a spyglass to find it, and then

it wouldn’t be fit to see. His wife couldn’t live with him; he drove his

son off and turned him into a drunk; and he’s lived his life for his

coin.”

“Which he ain’t got much to show for it,” remarked Marvin. “He lives like

a starved dog.”

“And that’s just why he’s got the coin,” said Sandy. “He lives on what

would make a dog sick and his whole life he’s been saving every cent he’s

made. He gives his wife one dress every three years till she died. That’s

how tight he is. But he’s sure got the money. Told everybody his kid run

off with all his savings. That’s a lie. His kid didn’t have the guts or

the sense to steal even what was coming to him for the work he done for

the old miser. Matter of fact, he’s got enough coin saved—all gold—to

break the back of a mule. That’s a fact! Never did no investing, but

turned everything he made into gold and put it away.”

“How do you know?” This from Denver.

“How does a buzzard smell a dead cow?” said Sandy inelegantly. “I ain’t

going to tell you how I smell out the facts about money. Wouldn’t be any

use to you if you knew the trick. The facts is these: he sold his ranch.

You know that?”

“Sure, we know that.”

“And you know he wouldn’t take nothing but gold coin paid down at the

house?”

“That so?”

“It sure is! Now the point’s this. He had all his gold in his own private

safe at home.”

Denver groaned.

“I know, Denver,” nodded Sandy. “Easy pickings for you; but I didn’t find

all this out till the other day. Never even knew he had a safe in his

house. Not till he has ‘em bring out a truck from town and he ships the

safe and everything in it to the bank. You see, he sold out his own place

and he’s going to another that he bought down the river. Well, boys,

here’s the dodge. That safe of his is in the bank tonight, guarded by old

Lewison himself and two gunmen he’s hired for the job. Tomorrow he starts

out down the river with the safe on a big wagon, and he’ll have half a

dozen guards along with him. Boys, they’s going to be forty thousand

dollars in that safe! And the minute she gets out of the county—because

old McGuire will guard it to the boundary line—we can lay back in the

hills and—”

“You done enough planning, Sandy,” broke in Joe Pollard. “You’ve smelled

out the loot. Leave it to us to get it. Did you say forty thousand?”

And on every face around the table Terry saw the same hunger and the same

yellow glint of the eyes. It would be a big haul, one of the biggest, if

not the very biggest, Pollard had ever attempted.

Of the talk that followed, Terry heard little, because he was paying

scant attention. He saw Joe Pollard lie back in his chair with squinted

eyes and run over a swift description of the country through which the

trail of the money would lead. The leader knew every inch of the

mountains, it seemed. His memory was better than a map; in it was jotted

down every fallen log, every boulder, it seemed. And when his mind was

fixed on the best spot for the holdup, he sketched his plan briefly.

To this man and to that, parts were assigned in brief. There would be

more to say in the morning about the details. And every man offered

suggestions. On only one point were they agreed. This was a sum of money

for which they could well afford to spill blood. For such a prize as this

they could well risk making the countryside so hot for themselves that

they would have to leave Pollard’s house and establish headquarters

elsewhere. Two shares to Pollard and one to each of his men, including

Sandy, would make the total loot some four thousand dollars and more per

man. And in the event that someone fell in the attempt, which was more

than probable, the share for the rest would be raised to ten thousand for

Pollard and five thousand for each of the rest. Terry saw cold glances

pass the rounds, and more than one dwelt upon him. He was the last to

join; if there were to be a death in this affair, he would be the least

missed of all.

A sharp order from Pollard terminated the conference and sent his men to

bed, with Pollard setting the example. But Terry lingered behind and

called back Denver.

“There is one point,” he said when they were alone, “that it seems to me

the chief has overlooked.”

“Talk up, kid,” grinned Denver Pete. “I seen you was thinking. It sure

does me good to hear you talk. What’s on your mind? Where was Joe wrong?”

“Not wrong, perhaps. But he overlooked this fact: tonight the safe is

guarded by three men only; tomorrow it will be guarded by six.”

Denver stared, and then blinked.

“You mean, try the safe right in town, inside the old bank? Son, you